


Second star to the right and straight on till morning

by Kogeki



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Different Types of Love, Eggsy as Peter Pan, Harry as Wendy, M/M, Meeting after the years, Peter Pan AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:48:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogeki/pseuds/Kogeki
Summary: Many years ago there was a Pan named Eggsy who lived in Neverland with his Lost Boys. One day in London he spotted a boy named Harry through the window and it changed everything.Many years later in the same window Eggsy meets a man in a suit, who teaches him what it means to grow up.





	Second star to the right and straight on till morning

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Peter Pan (2003) 2 weeks ago and this happened  
> Sorry for mistakes, in advance

Eggsy looked through that damn window as he passed by.   
Just a peek, without much thought. He was curious and there was no one to tell him he shouldn’t.  
He saw that man again. The one he didn’t recognise at first.

 

He remembered the first time he stumbled upon that window like it was yesterday. And for him it was. Time worked differently for Eggsy and for everyone else. A blink could mean ten days in London. One day - a year. Time has the tendency to run away faster than Eggsy’s shadow that night.  
Eggsy was flying through London looking for some fun as always, Daisy, the little fairy, with him, laughing and playing tag or hide and seek in the night sky. He got away from her, snickering to himself, trying to find a good hiding spot. He saw a dim light in one of the windows and he just had to take a peek inside. He was curious and there was no one to tell him he shouldn’t.  
Some boy was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a tiny furred beast by his side, reading aloud a story. It was a long story and Eggsy would come back every night, until it was finished. He would settle in the shadows of the balcony listening through the open window. It was always open, like it was waiting just for him. Sometimes he would bring Daisy with him, but sometimes he wanted to have this boy and his story just for himself.  
At the eleventh blink the boy was gone and the room wasn’t occupied ‘till the summer of the next day. Through those few blinks that Eggsy passed by the window was closed.  
Eggsy didn’t know when it opened again, but his shadow did. His shadow was running away again swished with the wind to the room thought that bloody open window.   
Eggsy was mortified. He never went into the room. He just stayed outside, sometimes looking through the glass and catch the boy’s eyes closing without his own volition or yawning loudly, his jaw cracking.  
But this time he went. The boy waited for him, his tiny dog holding Eggsy’s shadow by its ankle.  
“Were you the one listening for my stories year before?” The boy asked and Eggsy gulped. Kids weren’t supposed to be so perceptive, especially not of him. Not to brag but he was the best at hiding in the whole Neverland. He always won Hide and Seek with the Boys or even Daisy. “Who are you?”  
“Eggsy.”  
The boy’s lips quivered and Eggsy raised his chin, daring him to laugh. Which of course the boy did, muttering Harry between the giggles.  
His Lost Boys always respected Eggsy, admired him, but this one had the audacity to laugh at him. Eggsy felt his cheeks grow hot. That skinny boy with a mop of brown curls and weird red button up pyjamas. That boy who was just as tiny compared to Eggsy as his dog was to him.  
Eggsy reluctantly let him sew his shadow back to him. He was not very gentle and his shadow was trying to get away again. Eggsy was huffing but bear it with pride.  
“What?” He said as Harry was staring at him with wide brown eyes. Their knees nearly bumping as they both were sitting on the bed.  
“My I give you a kiss?” The boy asked shyly, for some reason his cheeks turned a bit pink.  
Eggsy lifted his palm in answer and Harry looked at him funny.  
“Don’t you know what a kiss is?”  
Eggsy made a motion with his fingers, getting impatient. “I shall know when you give me one.”  
To be honest it wasn’t so special. He didn’t know why Harry looked so shy before. He placed that thing he had on his finger, when he sew Eggsy with his shadow, and placed it on Eggsy’s hand. It was the size of an acorn and it looked like one, too.  
And after many, many adventures together, Harry asked again, brave and bold, and not shy at all. “Eggsy. I should like to give you a kiss.”  
“But you gave me a kiss, when we met!”  
Harry laughed and Eggsy had a feeling it was at him, so he started to pout. Harry’s palm rested against his cheek and Eggsy held his breath, not knowing what was coming. “No, I meant... I should like you give you a thimble.”  
“Oh, okay.” Eggsy scrunched his eyebrows, but then Harry’s lips were on his own, soft and warm and perfect. He liked thimbles hundred times more than kisses.  
Oh, but he never quite forgot about that thimble. He never forgot Harry. He was angry with him for some time. He left him, just like that. And Eggsy refused to say goodbye. Saying goodbye means going away. And going away means forgetting. He never wanted Harry to forget him. And he never wanted to forget Harry.

Eggsy stumbled upon that same window many, many days later. The lights were bright and soft glow was coming through the balcony into the night.  
Eggsy flew quietly, doing everything in his power to stay hidden. If it was someone else, Eggsy couldn’t be seen. And if it was Harry… well, that boy was always too perceptive for his own good.  
Instead of Harry he saw a man. A man in what adults called a suit. Dark as a night sky. He was tall - Eggsy learned that some adults were taller than others just as children were taller than others, Eggsy was the tallest of the Lost Boys, but Merlin was very close behind, back when they were all together.  
That man was wearing black thick rimmed glasses and his hair was slicked and hinting at grey at the temples. He was, well... old. Eggsy wasn’t used to seeing adults, even after all the times he looked at Londoners with Daisy. He thought they were all ugly before Harry.  
Harry who told him there’s nothing wrong with being an adult and that he wanted to become one. Wanted to! How anyone could want that? After some thought Eggsy started to look at adults differently.   
That man who stole Harry’s room was not bad looking. As not ugly as some adults could be, at least.  
Then there was a quiet beep of his phone (another thing he learned about from Londoners) and the man answered it, half through sliding off this multi-colored leash around his neck, “Harry Hart speaking,” and Eggsy gasped form surprise.  
The man’s - Harry’s - attention snapped to the window and Eggsy pinned his back against a wall, biting the meat of his palm to keep from making any noise, hidden in the shadows as Harry came out on the balcony and looked around.  
“What? No, no. I just thought I heard something. Turns out it’s just my paranoia. Comes with the job, I guess.” He smiled self-deprecating, not to brag, but Eggsy could see the same dimple Harry had.  
And God, his voice. What happened to his voice? Where was that lanky thing with his high-pitched squeaking and soft curls?  
What the hell happened?

 

Eggsy was passing by the window on his nightly flights, never stopping by, just taking a peak. Sometimes the man was in his red robe and he got soft chestnut curls that Eggsy remembered were soft like silk. Sometimes he was in a full suit, talking over the phone and clicking something on his laptop. And sometimes he wasn’t there at all.  
Eventually, a few blinks later, when Daisy wasn’t around, Eggsy did stop by.   
The window was opened and it was an invitation if Eggsy ever saw one. He landed on the railing, then jumped to the ground and made his way inside, knowing it was a trap before the door behind him closed with a snap.  
He was the one who taught Harry how to hunt, how to catch rabbits and birds for dinner. He was the one who taught Harry how to set a trap.  
There was this man again, who could be Harry, sitting behind a desk. Eggsy stood there in his loose shirt and worn out green trousers and barefoot on the soft carpet. He only glanced at him, more interested in the newspaper headlines adoring the room. He remembered the time when it wasn’t red like Baker’s hat, like hell might be, but green like a jungle, like Neverland, like their home.  
“You haven’t aged one bit.” That deep voice again unnerving Eggsy. He tried to keep a straight face as he turned and met this strange adult man’s eyes.  
“You really my Harry?” That was the most important thing.  
The man chuckled. He didn’t have that leash thing around his neck, he was in a white shirt with collar open and sleeves rolled to the elbow. Eggsy’s own was dirtied and loose, Harry’s was clean and very tight, restricting.  
Harry looked at his bare hands, a sad glint in his eye. “I suppose I changed a bit since the last time we met. But surely I haven’t changed so much you didn’t recognise me?”  
Eggsy was embarrassed, because in fact he didn’t recognize him at first. “You can’t blame me.” He said, posture and tone defensive. “You’re old now.”  
“And you are still the same. How is that possible?”  
Eggsy’s eyes turned to slits. “Belief, trust, magic. You know the drill.”  
“Do you mean you don’t age, because you don’t want to? Or maybe you believe you can’t?  
“Don’t matter.” Eggsy snapped. “What d’you want from me?”  
“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that question? I believe you came to spy on me a few days ago, didn’t you?”  
Eggsy’s ears grew hot and he bit his lip to keep himself from cursing. He plopped down on the chair in front of the desk where Harry was sitting cool as a punch and with an eyebrow raised.  
“Why did you come back, Eggsy?” He asked, his voice just a whisper, but still held that rough, deep edge. Eggsy’s name sounded stranger in that voice. Not like Harry at all.  
“I don’t know!” He threw his hands in the air, jumping out of the chair. Anger was familiar, anger he could deal with. “Maybe because you abandoned me! You took my Lost Boys and you abandoned me!”  
“Eggsy.” Harry said in that tone of voice, that patronising adult tone of voice Eggsy hated, despised with a burning passion. “We left of our own volition. We wanted to. It was our choice, you could’ve…”  
They both knew what he was going to say, they had that argument all those days ago.  
“I could’ve wot?” Eggsy sneered. “Go with you and wot? Be put in some foster family that wouldn’t give a shit about me or end up on the streets? Grew old and die? Fanks, Harry, tha’s not for me.”  
“I would’ve taken care of you.”  
“Tha’s bullshit, Harry, and you know it. Out here,” he pointed his thumb on the window, on the outside world, “you wouldn’t have looked twice at me.”  
“You really think so little of me?” Eggsy hated how Harry sounded so pained.  
“It’s a fact, innit? I always loved you more than you loved me.” Otherwise you wouldn’t left me was unsaid.  
“Oh, Eggsy.” Harry sighed, shaking his head and Eggsy wanted to scream with frustration. Adults always did that, when they knew the kid was wrong according to them. Like Eggsy’s words were silly and nothing else.  
Harry stood up from his own chair and Eggsy stood still as Harry approached him, slowly as if not to scare him. When they were standing face to face, Eggsy gulped, looking up.   
The fact that he actually had to look up to meet Harry’s gaze was ridiculous enough. His eyes were the same brown colour of warm chocolate as before, but they were also sharper, harder somehow. He knew a lot of things Eggsy hadn’t, saw a lot of things Eggsy hadn’t. He was an adult and he kept secrets within himself that he wouldn’t whisper in Eggsy’s ear when they were lying on the grass looking up at the fluorescent butterflies shining in the dark.  
“Wot, don’t think a Pan can love?” Eggsy went for the challenging. He had to take the upper hand somehow.  
“I’ll say to you what I thought back then, Eggsy, please do not take offence, for I have loved you then with all my little heart and soul. Your love is a child’s love, my dear boy. It’s brief, passionate and then devastating, when you realise it cannot last.”  
Harry’s palm migrated to his cheek. It was big, calloused, warm and oddly comforting. His thumb whipped the single tear that made its way out of Eggsy’s left eye. He took a shuddering breath.  
“So adult love matters more than child’s love? So my feelings and emotions mean less than if I were some adult? So you loved me as a child and don’t love me as an adult? So I have to be an adult for you to love me?”  
“My darling Eggsy,” he said just to draw out the time to think of an answer. Eggsy didn’t mind as much as he thought he would, when Harry started to hum softly while sliding a thumb over his cheek again and again. Eggsy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There are many kinds of love and every one of them is valid. Every one of them means something else. I have loved you as a child would love another - with sweet innocence. Now as an adult I can love and be loved in return with different kinds of love. I can control my feelings in a way you can’t quite control yours. When you’re angry you’re angry with your whole heart, just as when you love. When you’re happy you’re happy with everything that you are. And that is not at all a bad thing.”  
“Teach me, then,” Came out of Eggsy’s mouth against his own volition. But after a moment of silence he nodded fiercely, meeting Harry’s eyes. “I think I’ll maybe like it, the whole adult thing if you teach me.”  
He didn’t want to be alone anymore. If it meant he would be with Harry just for a little, maybe it would be worth it. It would be worth to grow up.  
Harry’s thumb brushed under his eye. “Eggsy, you don’t have to-...”  
“That I don’t have to is the most obvious fucking single thing in the whole bloody world. You think I got anything to lose? I wanna try this.” He took Harry’s hand in both of his own. “I wanna feel how you feel. And see how you see.”  
“There are some dark things in this world, Eggsy. Things a Pan could never unsee.”  
“Then, 24 hours, wot d’you say? If I don’t like anythin’ I’m out. I’m even gonna say goodbye this time.”  
“If you’re sure.” Harry breathed out eventually and Eggsy rolled his eyes.  
“Yes, Harry. So, wot’s the first lesson?”  
“A gentleman should ask before he takes a seat.” Eggsy sent him a glare, puffing up a bit before remembering not to act on his emotions so much. Adults were controlled, as Harry said. Eggsy could control himself. Easy peasy.  
“Second lesson,” Harry said with a glint in his eye, “how to make a proper martini.”  
“Wot’s a martini?”  
“An adult drink, my boy.”

 

The drink was rank, dry and sticking to his throat. He spit back his first gulp, before Harry chuckled quietly and told him he had to take small sips and learn to savour the taste. Eggsy wasn’t very convinced, but Harry’s lulling voice and the effects of the first drink loosened him up a bit.  
Harry told him stories about alcohol and Eggsy couldn’t believe some adults drunk it willingly, but he guessed maybe only Harry had a bad taste. He said they drink for pleasure.   
“‘S normal, tha’ my head’s spinnin’ like tha’?” Eggsy asked, his words slurred, his tongue didn’t feel like cooperating. To be honest he didn’t feel bad, more like he was floating just above the ground, but this time without the use of fairy dust.  
He stood next to Harry, leaning heavily on his side, making a grabbing motion for the glass that Harry just poured, bringing it to his lips, before Harry took it just as the taste burst on his tongue again.  
“Uh-uh. I think two glasses are enough for the first time.”  
Eggsy made a whining noise. “Come ooon, ‘Arry. ‘S just started tastin’ bettah.” He bumped Harry’s shoulder with his forehead, his head heavy and he rested there for a while, closing his eyes to stop the spinning.  
He practically could hear Harry’s chuckle, being so close to his throat. He heard two gulps and a click of a glass being settled down, then Harry turned Eggsy around by the shoulders, lifting his chin with his fingers.  
Harry was very warm. His hands were calloused but soft, his eyes like molten chocolate and his soft smile all the more wonderful for how rare it was on an adult. Adults don’t smile like that - open and warm. Maybe that’s why they drink.  
Eggsy’s half-closed eyes zeroed onn Harry’s crow feet and he lifted a palm to touch them, but he stopped, his fingertips just brushing over the flushed skin.   
Their dynamic changed from what they were before. Before they seemed to touch each other constantly, seeking each other’s warmth and when they talked they somehow always migrated so close they could feel the other’s breath on their cheeks or lips.   
Adult Harry was shy in touching Eggsy, as if Eggsy wouldn’t let him do anything if he asked. He kept his hands on Eggsy’s face or throat, brushing his cheeks, running a hand through Eggsy’s hair. Eggsy passed it as another of adults’ peculiarity - that they didn’t touch much.   
He found it ridiculous.  
Eggsy was always a creature of touch. He was a curious creature and he had to touch everything that caught his attention, even if it meant breaking into a pirates’ ship in the middle of the night. He touched everyone he came in contact with.   
He had a secret handshake with Michelle, also known as Tiger Lily of the Indian Tribe. Daisy always sat on his head or his shoulder or peppered him with her fairy kisses, or slept on him if she was tired.   
He used to hug his Lost Boys a lot. They made awful sounds as if they were dying, but they always hugged back. He had a bit of a reputation of clinging in his sleep. His Boys proclaimed him even Angry Octopus, which Harry had a first-hand experience on as they shared many nights together under the stars.   
And Eggsy was starved for another thimble they shared. Harry introduced him to this contact and they never got to do it one more time.  
Eggsy licked his lips, Harry’s eyes tracking the movement. It was not the time to think about that damn thimble! It always made Eggsy’s cheeks grow hot and now was no exception.  
So yeah, adults were weird about touch and he didn’t know how Harry would react to Eggsy touching him. But Harry leaned just those few millimeters into the touch and Eggsy beamed at the permission to explore his face.  
Harry indulged him for a while, Eggsy tracing the lines of his face, the crow’s feet, the wrinkles on his face, the arch of his eyebrows and lips. Just as he was swiping his soft bottom lip, the tip of Harry’s tongue brushed against his thumb.  
Eggsy felt a thrill shot through him and took his hand back as if burned. It was a foreign feeling that he didn’t want to examine too closely.  
Harry cleared his throat eventually and offered him his spare room.   
He turned around, he couldn’t see as Eggsy’s face fell, disappointed. He always slept with Harry by his side, someone by his side. After the Lost Boys were gone Eggsy curled around Michelle or Daisy and if they couldn’t be near him, he had trouble sleeping.   
He guessed adults didn’t sleep with each other. He didn’t ask why.  
Harry asked him something that Eggsy couldn’t quite understand.  
“Hmm?” He didn’t have much energy for anything but to hum.  
“I asked if you’d be alright in the shower. You look a bit wobbly.”  
“Shower?” Eggsy scrunched his brows, trying to jog his memory. He heard that word before, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was.  
“As in to clean yourself a bit. In the bathroom.” Harry answered. Eggsy taught him a lot about how life looked in Neverland, but Harry taught Eggsy some things about London, too. He new the face Eggsy made, when he didn’t know what he was talking about, but was too proud to ask.  
“Bathroom.” He knew that word. “‘M dying for a piss.”  
Harry led him to the guest bathroom and told him how to turn the taps for hot and cold water and honestly Eggsy heard his voice but didn’t make out some of the words, but nodded anyway. Harry kneeled on the floor, taking a fluffy towel from the shelf and Eggsy took it.  
He took a piss, then turned the tap too cold, then too hot until he figured it out. He patted himself dry with the towel and made his way to Harry’s room.  
He didn’t even bother with knocking, Lost Boys didn’t care much for privacy, they shared more than they could admit - their meals, clothes, beds.  
Harry was caught off guard for a split second before he schooled his expression into something more resembling his usual emotionless expression.  
Eggsy knew he was staring, he couldn’t help it. Harry was looking at Eggsy through the big mirror on the door of the wardrobe. His hair was a wet mess of curls, the droplets of water still making their way under the collar of his pyjamas. Harry was wearing pyjama pants and a matching shirt that wasn’t buttoned yet. His chest was on a full display.  
Eggsy took a few steps toward him and Harry turned to face him.   
Both of them could see different things in the mirror. Eggsy could see how tiny he looked compared to Harry, his eyes faced Harry’s jaw and even if he was a stocky built and quite tall, Harry’s shoulders were broader, his legs longer. Harry could see an older man with his shirt not buttoned and a completely naked attractive young man in front of him.   
There was nothing boy in Harry, Eggsy realised. Not anymore. Harry’s hands were broad and strong, they were a man’s hands. His chest was muscled covered in hair and it was a man’s chest. He was covered with scars of different shapes and sizes, that the best Neverland’s warrior could envy.  
In comparison, Eggsy had a little girl’s hands, small and with short fingers. His chest was well-built, but it was hardly covered with hair. His whole skin was pale and unblemished, as if his body had no stories to tell.  
Was he bad for liking the way they looked together in that mirror? Was he bad for enjoying the way he had someone bigger than him that he could trust not to hurt him? Was he bad for enjoying how Harry looked at him?   
He looked at him as a man does. And a little wonder for Harry was a man now.  
“You should put some clothes on, you’ll catch a cold.” Harry said low and barely above a whisper. “I apologize, I was going to change and bring you some pyjamas.”  
Eggsy scrunched his nose. Yet again when they were standing so close, looking at each other, at the verge of… something and Harry had to put distance between them first. Eggsy was curious and he didn’t like to be denied knowledge. And Harry kept backing away. Eggsy wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t, if neither of them backed away.  
Harry came back with a pair of pyjamas, much like his own but soft blue. Eggsy put the pants on, then fumbled with the buttons of the shirt. Harry quickly made all his buttons, leaving hot spikes in the places his fingers brushed Eggsy’s belly and chest, up to his collarbone. Then he buttoned up his own shirt, much to Eggsy’s disappointment.  
Harry took him by the hand as they were making their way to the guest bedroom. Harry tucked Eggsy in, but before he could leave Eggsy took his hand. “Stay wif me ‘till I sleep?” Was out of his mouth before he could decide if it was too childish request.  
Harry only smiled that small smile, sitting himself next to Eggsy’s head leaning back on the headboard.   
“Of course, my darling Eggsy,” He bought Eggsy’s palm to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Eggsy sighed and relaxed into the bed. Harry told him stories until Eggsy fell asleep.

 

In the morning Eggsy was woken up by the smell of food, his stomach grumbling and his eyes slowly opening. There was a pulsing pain in his temples and he hated how the sun hit his eyes, so he closed them again and tried to get up.  
For a moment he fumbled with the sheets and rolled from the bed with them, not knowing where he was. Then he remembered Harry and everything made sense again. Eggsy stood up and opened the door to the guest bedroom and the smell hit him. It was mouth-watering and it led Eggsy down the stairs on bare feet.  
He made his was to the kitchen, where he saw a broad back in white shirt. Harry turned around with a smile like he knew Eggsy was there from the beginning and brushed his lips over Eggsy’s temple with a “Good morning. Breakfast is ready.”  
Eggsy gaped at him, but most importantly he gaped at the table filled to the brim with different kinds of food. There were toast, some fruit, three different jars of jam, honey and pancakes with maple syrup.  
“I guessed you probably have had enough of rabbits and berries, so I made something with the leftovers form the fridge. We can stop by the Tesco on our way from the shop.” Harry took a seat at the head of the table and gestured for Eggsy to join him. Eggsy did, reluctantly.  
“We?” He asked, not daring to hope.  
Harry took a sip of his steaming hot tea. “I would love to stay in and catch up with you, my boy, but I’m afraid I have to go to work. You may stay here if you want, watch some films, read books, put on some music, but I was rather hoping you’ll come with me.”  
“To… work?” Eggsy scrunched up his nose. He took a slice of toast and put a jam on it.  
“Yes. You won’t have to work, of course. It’s my job, not yours. I don’t have any assignments for a few days as I’m recovering and-”  
Eggsy’s eyes snapped back to Harry’s face. “You’re hurt?” He tried to remember if Harry showed him any discomfort yesterday, when Eggsy touched him. He saw a few bruises that looked fairly new, but Eggsy scraped his knees and got bruises like that on the daily basis. Maybe if you were an adult that kind of injury hurt a lot more.  
“Everything’s mostly healed, but the doctors like to take precautions.” He said the word with a distaste and Eggsy didn’t even know what it meant, so he continued on chewing.  
“Sure, alright. I’ll go wif you.” He said eventually, deciding that Harry was telling the truth. Besides, he didn’t want to be alone. He yawned loudly and winced. “Though m’head hurts a bit.”  
“Oh!” Harry was out of his seat in a flash. “I completely forgot.” He came back and gave Eggsy a pill to go with his orange juice.  
Eggsy made a disgusted face at the pill. “Is that a medicine?”  
Harry rolled his eyes, knowing how the Lost Boys all reacted when Harry showed them what a cough syrup was. “Yes, Eggsy. Please, take it. You’ll feel better.”  
“Don’t wanna.” Eggsy started to mix pancakes with fruit and strawberry jam. They had a lot of strawberry back in Neverland, but he liked strawberry, sue him.  
“Eggsy.” Harry’s voice became more steely.  
“Not gonna. So you can shove that tone up your arse.” Eggsy showed him a two fingered salute with his left hand.  
Harry sighed. He decided to try a different approach. He took Eggsy’s hand softly and kissed his knuckles. “Please? For me?”  
Eggsy’s cheeks immediately colored.  
“Not gonna fall for those puppy eyes ‘Arry. You’re not twelve anymo’.” But Harry continued to look at him with those wide brown eyes, so much resembling his twelve year old self that Eggsy had to blink a few times before he remembered what they were talking about.  
“Adults… take medicine, yeah?” He asked eventually, looking at the pill again. Harry took his hands away and Eggsy missed his warmth immediately.  
“In some cases it makes them feel better. When you’re hungover... it means when you drink too much alcohol, you take a pill and it can ease the headache.”  
Eggsy knew something was wrong with those martinis. Alcohol - adult’s drink. But at what cost!  
“And in other cases?” He knew Harry wasn’t telling him everything, sugaring the truth because he wanted to spare Eggsy. Oh please, Eggsy saw more awful things that a normal kid should. Sometimes he had to witness one or two awful things so his Lost Boys wouldn’t have to.  
“Sometimes they can get addicted to medicine that makes them feel good and they don’t want to feel shitty again.”  
“Adults do that?”  
“Not only adults. People can get addicted to anything, my boy. Medicine. Food. Smoking. Exercise. Sex.”  
Eggsy’s felt his cheeks grow hot as he heard the word. Sometimes he heard people whisper the S word as if it was something forbidden, something you shouldn’t talk about. And here Harry was, saying it out loud and being so bloody casual about it. Eggsy didn’t really know what it meant, but he guessed adults didn’t talk about it much.  
“How did you sleep?” Harry asked, and Eggsy thanked him silently for changing the topic.  
“Meh.” Eggsy mumbled, shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer.  
Harry frowned. “Not good?”  
“Don’t really like sleeping alone.” Eggsy admitted quietly as he was telling a secret. He didn’t see any point in lying to Harry. He didn’t want to. He liked and respected Harry too much to lie to him.  
“Me too,” Harry said and left it at that, Eggsy trying to figure out what it meant.  
Later after the breakfast was gone, eaten mostly by Eggsy, and leftovers left in the fridge, Harry lent Eggsy his clothes, because he couldn’t go out in pyjamas or his own dirty clothes from the night before.  
The t-shirt was old and a bit tight, but it fit Eggsy well, the jeans were too long so Eggsy had to roll it a few times. He got Harry’s boxers, socks and sneakers. They didn’t fit perfectly but they were Harry’s clothes, so Eggsy could bear them that one day.  
Harry put on a grey jacket and took an umbrella from the hook by the door and they were off to the world.

 

It was the first time Eggsy walked the streets.   
He observed people from the sky or through windows, but never he walked among them like he was one of them.   
They all looked at them a bit funny. Harry was regal in his walking, he carried himself like a king. Eggsy must have looked funny compared to him - some boy in clothes that didn’t fit. Harry talked to people only if it was necessary, all his attention focused on Eggsy. Eggsy felt proud of himself, he saw a few people give him jealous looks, seeing as Harry had eyes only for him.   
And why wouldn’t he. Harry was handsome. Eggsy couldn’t help comparing him to the others they were passing by on the streets or in the park. And to be honest - Harry was the most handsome man Eggsy seen so far.  
Harry stopped and Eggsy nearly crashed into his back. He looked up to see a name Kingsman in a golden letters. Tailor’s.   
“What’s a tailor?”  
“Someone who makes clothes, my boy.”  
“And you’re a tailor, Harry?”  
“I am a Kingsman.”

 

Harry kept a firm hand on his lower back as he stirred him to the right door in the shop. They said they nodded politely to the old man, who greeted only Harry in return. Harry threw a quick glance at Eggsy, before his face cleared in recognition. Eggsy continued to look around where shirts lay folded perfectly. Eggsy kind of suspected adults folded their clothes, but it still came as a unpleasant surprise. He shrugged when Harry looked at him funnily.  
Eggsy wasn’t an idiot, okay? He kind of knew a bit of London, he’s been there a lot, especially recently. He didn’t pay much attention to older people in his years of living, but sometime ago he realised he was… transparent to adults. Like, they knew he was there, but they completely ignored his presence. Only kids could notice him, see all of him.   
And Harry apparently.  
Of course he knew Harry would probably get in trouble for bringing some boy to work with him. Eggsy wondered briefly what was Harry’s plan? Introduce him as his tailor apprentice or some shit?  
Judging from Harry’s relieved look - yep, that’s exactly what he planned.  
Eggsy laughed out loud, and when Harry asked him what’s so funny, he just shook his head.

 

Harry told him a lot about Kingsman, about spies and whatnot. It was life out of adventure book! And Harry actually lived it. If Eggsy would peg Harry for a certain type - it would be a romantic, not an action hero. He was all poetic words and soft looks and touches. On the other side there were steady hands, gun-holsters, tightly-coiled strength in that fit body.  
12 year-old Harry never won a fight with Eggsy, not verbal, not physical. And to be honest, Eggsy felt a thrill thinking that now Harry could probably pin him to the ground in 5 seconds flat and wait, where were those thoughts coming from?  
Eggsy and Harry were turning into another corridor - that looked the same as any other - shoulders brushing, comfortable silence between them after lectures from Harry and shared laughs over Eggsy’s comments. Then a microphone beeped and the deep voice said, “Agent Galahad, could you please bring your unidentified companion to my cave?”  
Eggsy looked at Harry, terrified. It was a man’s voice, adult voice. No adult could see him! No adult beside Harry. Harry just looked like he expected this to happen and with a sigh, stirred Eggsy to the right.  
Harry held the door for Eggsy to come in first. He saw a lot of screens, wires and a bald man turning in his chair. “Harry, ye bloody idiot, what were-...” The man cut of suddenly, his sharp jaw hanging open.  
He got up on shaky knees and took two steps forward. Eggsy held his ground, but he was becoming uneasy. The man seemed to knew him. It didn’t mean anything good.  
“Who’re you?” Eggsy asked.  
The man was wearing a sweater and black pants, much like the ones Harry was wearing, and he smiled a little self-deprecating smile. “I suppose I changed a bit since the last time we saw each other.”  
Eggsy swallowed. Could he be…? One of his Lost Boys?  
“Are ye going to stand here all day or yer going to give yer Merlin a hug?”  
And Eggsy was off in a flash, practically leaping into the man’s arms. Of course he was smaller, so the man easily caught him, resting his chins on the top of Eggsy’s head.  
“Are you really my Merlin?” Eggsy hiccuped, tears streaming down his cheeks, smearing it all in the older man’s sweater.  
Merlin’s big adult arms took most of the air out of his lungs, crushing him, but he didn’t care. It was his Merlin, his first Lost Boy, his first friend.  
“Yes, I am.”  
“No, you can’t be.” Eggsy was shaking his head, over and over again. “Where all your hair’s gone? Merlin had hair.”  
“That’s the perk of growing old. And bad genetics.” Merlin chuckled and Eggsy felt that little sound warm his cold heart and he laughed through tears, still not letting go of Merlin’s chest. “Would you ever forgive me? For abandoning you.”  
“‘Course. ‘Course, Merlin, I did a long time ago. ‘M not angry no more.”  
Merlin untangled Eggsy’s arms from his chest and moved away to look at Eggsy, to check if it’s really the truth and not his mind’s delusion. Eggsy blinked a few times and a few tears escaped, before he wiped them with the backs of his hands.  
“Thank you, Eggsy.” Merlin said and placed a kiss on Eggsy’s forehead.  
Eggsy wiped that too with his hand and an embarrassed grimace, mumbling under his nose, “You’re such a mum.” He took a deep breath and he was his usual cheerful self again. “You happy here, righ’? It was a good decision?”  
“Yes, Eggsy. This life has given me many joys and pains, and I learned to cherish all of them.” He gestured for Eggsy and Harry - who’s been standing in the corner with eyes on the floor, not wanting to disturb their moment - to sit down. Then Merlin sit down himself. “I had the smartest, most beautiful wife. I met her a few years after we came to London, I think. She was Harry’s cousin.”  
“That I actually liked.” Harry added and the mood changed. It was sad, but the good sort, that embraced you like an old friend that you learned to make fun of sometimes.  
“She’s gone?” Eggsy asked as Merlin talked about her in the past sence.  
“She died, yes. Car crash.”  
Eggsy’s lip trembled again. He didn’t want to think about Merlin’s sadness, how broken he must’ve felt. He experienced loss once - when Lee from the Indian Tribe died and he and Michelle were devastated. He never wanted his Lost Boys to feel so much pain. He wanted to protect them. But he guessed he couldn’t, not in the real world.  
“And was it worth it?” Was it worth leaving Neverland and learning about all sorts of unpleasant emotions real hard world had to offer?  
“Every single moment.”  
Eggsy was trying to understand. How could someone willing subject themselves to that kind of pain? That kind of sadness? How could they love, not knowing if it was the last moment they spent with a beloved person?  
Merlin had to go back to his duties that he neglected enough for them, talking to them for an hour, deliberately didn’t ask about why Eggsy was here and when, if he was coming back.  
To be honest he was starting to question it himself.  
“You stayed in touch.” Eggsy stated as they were heading to the place only Harry knew.  
“Yes, we did.” Harry’s voice was soft, as he thought Eggsy was a fragile teacup that he could shutter with a harsher tone. “There was always that sense of belonging, in Neverland, with fairies and pirates and Indians, and…” And you. Eggsy understood. “We didn’t have any family but each other. So we created a family for ourself. A bunch of Lost Boys who understood each other better than anyone else.”  
Eggsy only hummed in answer. Family, huh?

 

They ended up on the outside. They actually were in a residence that had amazing garden and some sort of training field around it. A lot of trees that you can climb on. Eggsy was tempted, but his fully belly prevented him from going anywhere. He sat with Harry on a bench and observed people coming and going, birds and insects living their busy lives.  
He saw a suited man and a smaller woman waving at them, before they walked over. Eggsy had another reunion with crying as he found out it was Percy, one of his youngest Lost Boys, all grown up and grumpy. He was 6 and smiling a lot in Neverland. Eggsy didn’t want to ask what happened.   
Another tragedy. Another one of his Lost Boys in pain. Another one he wanted to cradle to his chest and protect at every cost. But he couldn’t. They were all grown up now.  
When Eggsy finally unglued himself from Percival, he turned to look at the girl standing next to them, watching the whole scene with some amusement and awe. Eggsy was caught off guard. He hadn’t had a Lost Girl so she shouldn’t be able to see him. And she did.  
“Eggsy, meet Roxanne, my daughter.”  
Eggsy’s brain short-circuited. He shook her hand as she smiled at him and said, “Call me Roxy. And wow, I didn’t think I’ll ever meet you. My dads always talk about you.”  
Dads?  
They wanted to stay and catch up, but someone called them, so they said their goodbyes. Eggsy turned to Harry with determination. He had so many questions.  
He took a seat beside Harry on the bench, with crossed legs and facing him.  
“Dads?” He muttered. “I thought-... Well, she’s… I mean, how-...?” He growled in frustration, but Harry seemed to catch up with his train of thought.  
“Percival and Lancelot.” Eggsy’s eyes went wide. “And no, Eggsy, two men cannot make a baby. She’s adopted.”  
“Where’s James, then?” Eggsy was eager to see his friend. They were always making the best pranks on others.  
Harry’s expression fell and Eggsy had a thousand different awful ideas, but nothing could prepare him for Harry’s blunt words, “He died. Last year.”  
Eggsy’s body shook violently. “If I took the head out of my arse sooner, I could’ve…”  
Harry’s palms were on him in an instant, cradling his cheeks, murmuring, “No, no, don’t think that, Eggsy, please. Don’t do this to yourself.”  
Eggsy calmed down a bit, but he still felt drained. A tornado of emotions swept through him and left nothing more but a dull ache. He had enough of that bloody day,  
“Take me home, Harry.”

 

In the taxi, Eggsy his head was resting on Harry’s shoulder, his hands playing idly with Harry’s long elegant fingers, comparing their size to his own, finding it calming.  
He felt a lot better than before. A bit out of tune, maybe. In that weird sort of way, His feet felt heavy and so did his heart. His emotions started to blend and mesh, he felt a few of them at once. He didn’t felt happy. Or sad. Something in between.  
“They always were close.” Eggsy said. Percy and James slept beside each other, talked with hushed voices, always paired up together, always disappeared in the woods alone. Like he and Harry did.  
“They did. With time they realised what they feel for each other was not only a brotherly love.”  
“What d’you mean?” Eggsy still looked at Harry’s hands. “You said before they were different types of love. So teach me.”  
Harry cleared his throat, and Eggsy smiled despite himself. Harry was getting ready to get into his professor mode. He could talk for hours. Which didn’t bother Eggsy at all. He grew to like this Harry’s voice.  
“I believe the Greeks described their loves very well. There is Philia, which is also called friendship. Love for dear friends. Ludus means a playful love.”  
“Playful?” Eggsy asked, curious.  
“It’s love between young people, teenagers, young lovers. They flirt, dance. They’re filled with energy. It’s not really like children’s love. That love is more… sexual, I think.”  
Eggsy’s cheeks grew hot. There was that word again.  
“Agape is love for everyone, selfless love. Pragma is a long lasting love, shared between couples married for a long time. When you learn about the other person every day, you learn to cherish them and understand them, make some compromises. You still want to be with them, after so long. That’s I think our dear friends, Percival and James shared. Well, that, and the last one.”  
“What’s the last one?” Eggsy asked, but before Harry could answer, they pulled over and the driver knocked.  
“That’s our stop, love.”  
Eggsy felt warm all over at the expression and let Harry pay the driver. Eggsy didn’t pay much mind when the driver said goodbye to Eggsy, too.  
Instead he took Harry’s hand again and they made their way to the front door.   
The sun was beginning to set, sky in all the bright colours of a rainbow. There wasn’t much time left, Eggsy thought panicking. He hasn’t learned everything he wanted yet. He had to know what was the last lesson Harry had to teach him, before the 24 hours were up. He had to know.  
“Harry.” There was no reaction. Harry took off his shoes and put the umbrella in its place. “Harry.”  
“Yes, my darling.” His words were syrupy sweet, streaming down Eggsy’s body, making it warm.  
“What’s the last one?”  
“It’s... “ Harry started, but got distracted by something only he knew. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie, baring his Adam’s apple and Eggsy had a sudden urge to bit into it.  
He sent Eggsy a look and turned around on the stairs. Eggsy followed him without much thought.  
He felt… He felt like they were finally getting somewhere. There was that tension between them and it was present now. Harry wasn’t turning around, wasn’t denying it, but he was inviting Eggsy. With that look that only men could give.  
“The last one...” Harry stopped before he got into his bedroom. He was facing the door. “The last one is called Eros. It’s a sexual love.”  
A thrill went through Eggsy hearing that word again and it settled in a warm knot in his abdomen. He was expecting something, but knew it was coming. They were so close.   
Eggsy licked his lips.  
“What does it mean?”  
“It’s a physical attraction. Love for someone else’s body.”  
“How does-...? How do you-...?” Eggsy couldn’t piece his thoughts together. He wanted to know more, but wasn’t sure how to ask, what to ask.  
But as always Harry seemed to know what he was thinking more than Eggsy himself.  
“It’s a desire to touch. An itching under your skin that you fear might take your rational mind completely. Desire to kiss. To look. To taste. To bring your partner nothing but pleasure and release.”  
“Release.” Eggsy echoed numbly.  
He took a step forward, bringing his body flush against Harry’s back, felt his shoulders stiffen. “Can you show me?”  
“May I,” Harry corrected involuntary.  
Eggsy breathed hot over the back of his neck, “Yes, Harry.”  
Eggsy felt Harry laugh a bit out of breath and he turned around, taking Eggsy’s face in his palms again. Eggsy instantly become worried. It was the time - that time Harry always turned away. Eggsy couldn’t let that happen. Not when he was so close.  
“Give me a thimble, Harry.” Eggsy wanted to demand, but it felt more like a plea. They were already close, Harry only had to lean down.  
Harry scrunched his eyebrows and Eggsy licked his lips, then he seemed to remember, eyes going wide.  
“My dear Eggsy, I’m afraid I lied to you.” Eggsy frowned as well. Harry smoothed that line between his brows with a gentle thumb. His expression was quietly amused, so Eggsy wasn’t so worried. “That little thing I gave you, it’s not a kiss. This is a kiss.”  
He brought their lips together. It was just a peck, but send warm flooding Eggsy’s body. His cheeks were flushed and the realisation hit him. “You wanted to give me a kiss, when we first met. And that’s a kiss?”  
“How could I not want to kiss you?” Harry’s warm laugh fell upon Eggsy’s own lips. “I laid my eyes upon you, lovely flying boy, and I fell in love with you. And as an old man I thought I couldn’t fall in love again.”  
“Kiss me again.” Eggsy said, suddenly lifting his chin and standing on his tiptoes. Harry granted his request. “Again.” And another. “Again.” And another.  
He granted his requests of More by stroking Eggsy’s tongue with his own, which earned him little mews of pleasure.  
When they finally broke their kiss for breath, both of them panting and looking at each other, blown eyes, red bitten lips. There was a hunger inside those green eyes that Harry hadn’t anticipated. He thought himself a dirty old man, but maybe Eggsy wanted this, too. Needed this. Maybe this was the last step.  
They undressed slowly. Eggsy was eager, but inexperienced. He fumbled with the buttons of Harry’s shirt and Harry kissed him thoroughly for his trouble. When they were completely bare Harry layed Eggsy on the bed and kissed him all over, traced his lips, his hands everywhere he could reach. Reshaping him. Remaking him.  
Harry was a patient teacher. He opened Eggsy up with one lubed finger, then with two. Showing Eggsy all the pleasures of the body, he took Eggsy’s hand and placed it on Eggsy’s straining cock, which the boy was avoiding. He told Eggsy to look at it as Harry’s larger hand covered Eggsy’s smaller one and guided him up and down, up and down. Eggsy found his rhythm soon enough and Harry’s guidance wasn’t required.  
With Eggsy distracted by his own hands, Harry slipped a third finger and Eggsy’s hips pushed down on them, then back as if he didn’t know if he wanted it or no.  
When Harry entered him, there was a cry from Eggsy and Harry immediately felt alarmed. Eggsy’s eyes were glazed, looking at Harry, licking his lips. “Don’t…” he managed through his open lips, painting. “Don’t you dare stop now, Harry Hart.”  
“Of course not, love.” He kissed the inside of Eggsy’s ankle, the one that rested on his shoulder and began to fuck him, earning soft keens with every thrust.  
Eggsy came first, while Harry was still fucking into him and he swear he saw Neverland for a second.  
Release, Harry said.  
That’s what it was. Release.

**Author's Note:**

> They lived happily ever after of course


End file.
